


Surviving's Not Enough

by nerdytooru (broodywolf)



Category: Fallout 4, Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, M/M, ghoul iwaizumi, sole survivor oikawa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-10-05 14:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10310273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodywolf/pseuds/nerdytooru
Summary: Oikawa is the sole survivor of Vault 111--except he isn't, because his and Iwaizumi's friend Naomi survived, too. While he is hellbent on finding his son and avenging his wife, Naomi wakes up to a vault full of corpses, determined to find Oikawa since he may be the last tie she has to her old life. They'll both find more than they expected in the Commonwealth, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This Fallout crossover latched onto my brain and wouldn't let go. The first part will focus on my OC and Asahi, and then we'll flash back to see Oikawa's story once Naomi finds him.

_Cold._

Naomi’s hand made a grab for the blankets to pull them up higher--until she realized with a sudden sweeping wave of nausea that she wasn’t in a bed at all.

_The bombs. Evacuation. The vault. “Just step inside…”_

Naomi’s eyes flashed open. The tiny window of the ‘decontamination’ pod was frosted over with ice. She shivered violently, her shaking fingers fumbling to try to find a latch. There had to be a latch, right?

Her breath came faster, sending puffs of steam into the air as the panic set in. There wasn’t a latch. The fuckers had trapped them in freeze pods and there was _no latch._ She banged her fist against the door with all her strength, and winced in pain as the impact sent a nasty jolt up her arm. She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. There was no telling how much of an air supply she even had; hyperventilating would get her nowhere. Okay, _think,_ _Naomi._ Punching the door wasn’t going to get her anywhere. But--there just might be enough room for her to get her feet up against it. She was much more likely to force it open with her legs than her upper body. It took some doing, but she got her legs bent up in front of her, her feet on the door as she braced herself against the back of the pod. She took a few deep breaths and then _pushed._ At first the door didn’t seem like it was going to budge, and her legs were quickly screaming with the sudden exertion. Suddenly, though, there was a _crack_ and the door gave just a fraction of an inch. Naomi eased up, letting her legs rest as she heaved in gulps of air. A grim smile spread across her face, though. She would get this damn thing open, and then she would find the fuckers who did this to them.

When she’d regained her breath, she braced herself again and gave one final, massive shove. The metal seemed to groan, and then with another sudden crack, the door released, and Naomi crashed down against the bottom of the pod and onto the floor. She stayed there for a moment, resting her head against her arm as she caught her breath. Ugh, it was still cold out here. She pushed herself slowly off the floor and looked around her. All the other pods were still closed--all except one. She got to her feet, wincing slightly at the pain in her lower back from the fall. She limped down to the open pod.

That was--wasn’t that the pod Tooru had been in? A quick glance around revealed a terminal at the end of the room. Sure enough, it had a list of ‘residents’ on it--that was definitely Tooru who was missing.

_Occupant Status: Unknown -- Remote Override Engaged._

Remote override? The hell did that mean…

She could figure that one out later. Right now she needed to work out how to get the rest of these damn things open. No one else seemed to have woken up yet, but she didn’t want them to have the same experience she had.

_[Pod C4: Mr. Iwaizumi]_

_[Pod C5: Mrs. Iwaizumi]_

She selected the first one, and then… _no._ No, no, no…

_Occupant Status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure._

She checked Mrs. Iwaizumi’s next; The same thing. Dead, both of them. She could scarcely believe it. They were as good as family to her, they’d been friends with her parents for so long. She could remember the awkward playdates with Hajime when they had come to visit.

Oh, shit. _Hajime._ She had to find him. She had to… _shit,_ she had to tell him. She could only hope he was at least alive. One would think being in a vault would be safer than being on the front lines, but… _fuck._

Putting that thought aside for later, she went back to the list to check the rest. She checked _all of them._ The same thing every time. _Life Support failure._ Except--except for Tooru’s wife and his son.

_[Pod C6: Mrs. Oikawa and Shaun (infant)]_

_Occupant Status: Unknown -- Pod Door Manual Override Engaged._

Frowning, Naomi crossed over to Julie’s pod. There was, she noticed now, a lever right next to each pod; she pulled it and the door lifted open. Julie was--oh, fuck. That was… that was a gunshot. Naomi hadn’t ever seen a gunshot wound before but that was undeniably a gunshot wound. She stared at her friend’s face feeling shocked and numb from more than just the cold. _Julie._ Why would someone do this? Everyone had loved her. She’d been Naomi’s first real friend after she moved to Boston, other than Hajime. It had worked out so well that they hit it off the way they did, since Hajime and Tooru were such close friends. The four of them had hung out so much together people started to tease them about all of the ‘double dates’, asking when she and Hajime were going to get together. It was never like that, of course. Hajime was a _brother_ to her. She loved him dearly, but it was hard to see him that way.

Another violent shiver wracked her body, snapping her out of her memories. She needed to get out of here before she got fucking hypothermia. She needed to--she needed to find Tooru and Hajime. She could only hope they were both alive.

She stumbled her way through the vault, passing cockroaches the size of her _head._ All of them were dead, though. She shuddered, running past them just in case they were not-so-dead. How the fuck did cockroaches grow that big, anyway? Bugs hadn’t been that size since dinosaurs were alive, right? Was it something to do with the bombs? They always did say cockroaches would survive a nuclear blast, but she didn’t exactly expect them to survive and get _huge._ Ugh. She shook her head. She had bigger things to worry about than monster cockroaches.

Like the fucking _skeleton_ sprawled over the main desk of the vault. How… how long had they been frozen? She didn’t know that much about decomposition and shit, but it looked _ancient,_ even the clothes mostly rotted away. Was this like one of Tooru’s science fiction movies, where they froze people to keep them alive indefinitely?

She… couldn’t think about that. She could feel the panic roiling in her gut, threatening to take over completely; she couldn’t dwell. One step at a time. She had to get out of here. She knew it might be dangerous to go outside--she didn’t remember the half life of uranium or plutonium or whatever they put in atomic bombs, only that it was long--but she couldn’t stay in here any longer, trapped with a bunch of frozen corpses.

As it turned out, her worries about the radiation were irrelevant--the vault door was wide open, so whatever radiation was outside was in there, too. That settled it. Nowhere to go but up.

She slammed her shaking hand onto the button for the massive elevator, waiting for the platform to lower. She stepped on as soon as the gate opened, quickly hitting the button again to go up. The platform felt too big now, with her the only one on it. Going down she’d been with the Iwaizumis, and Tooru and Julie, and…

Naomi bit back a sob as the full weight of everything that had happened threatened to hit her. She couldn’t break down now. There was still a chance Tooru and Hajime were out there somewhere. If they were alive, she would find them. She had to.

The elevator platform was flooded suddenly by blinding light, and Naomi threw an arm in front of her face to shield her eyes as she winced. She blinked several times to adjust to the light, and then several more times to make sure what she was seeing was real.

The landscape surrounding Sanctuary Hills should have been so familiar to her, but the terrain she saw now was utterly alien. The manicured grass and hedges were gone, replaced by scraggly bushes and trees. Everything was overgrown, but somehow looked dead at the same time. She stepped off the platform, heading straight down the hill towards the neighborhood; the trail was long gone anyway.

Naomi re-entered Sanctuary Hills in a daze. It was hard to reconcile what she was seeing with the perfect lawns and picket fences and cherry-red cars she remembered. The place had been decimated. The houses that were even still standing were rusted and falling apart, missing chunks of roof or entire walls. The mint-condition convertible that man down the street had been bragging about looked like it belonged in a junkyard. The streets themselves were crumbling, even; not to mention they were strewn with trash and fallen trees and a _toilet,_ of all things.

“Hi there; Can I help you?”

Her eyes snapped up; in the haze of her thoughts she’d barely noticed that while the neighborhood was destroyed, it was not, in fact, abandoned. The man who’d spoken was wearing what looked like some sort of dilapidated revolutionary war reenactment getup, and holding something that might have been a rifle, though Naomi was thrown by the glowing red bits. The thing also seemed to be duct taped around the barrel. The kind smile on his face looked as natural as the wariness in his eyes.

“Sorry, I--” she stammered, not even sure where to _start._

“Another vault dweller, eh?” another voice said. Naomi was confused for just a moment before she looked down and was reminded of the garish blue and yellow of the jumpsuit she was wearing.

“Leave her be, Sturges, she looks a little spooked.” The other man--Sturges--nodded and retreated inside one of the more intact houses. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen,” the first man introduced himself. “What vault are you from, stranger?”

Naomi pointed up the hill in the direction of the vault, and Preston’s eyes went wide.

“You came outta there? Oikawa said--”

“Oikawa?” Naomi asked urgently, cutting him off. “You mean Tooru’s alive?”

“Last I saw him, yeah. He’s the one who helped set us up here in Sanctuary after he saved our asses in Concord.”

“Where is he?”

“Haven’t seen him in months. I’m sorry.”

“Do you know where he went? I have to find him. His wife--”

Preston’s face fell. “You must’ve seen, huh? He told me a little bit about it. All I know is he said whoever killed her took his son. And by the look on his face, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be the son of a bitch who did it. I don’t know where he is, but the last time I saw him he was headed to Diamond City to look for help finding his kid.”

“Diamond City?”

“It’s the biggest settlement in the area. But look--there’s something you need to know. You may have gathered you were on ice for a while. If you were in there as long as Oikawa, though, you might not realize quite how long.”

Naomi didn’t like the trepidation in Preston’s voice. “Why? How long has it been?”

“You went in there the same time he did, then? Before the bombs fell?”

“It was more like as they were falling, but yeah. Just tell me, please.”

“You’ve been down there just over two hundred and ten years. It’s 2287,” Preston said, his voice gentle with sympathy.

“No. No, you’re wrong,” Naomi stuttered. That couldn’t be right. She already knew the Iwaizumis were dead, and Julie, but that would mean--Hajime, too. Her _parents._ Freaking everyone she’d ever known.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take in. And I know you want to find Oikawa, but it’s not the safest trip. You should rest here a few days, get used to the new lay of things.”

“I…” Naomi hesitated. On some level she knew he was right; she’d had her entire world turned upside down in the last hour, and setting off immediately after Tooru, with no idea what was in store for her out there, was objectively a bad idea. But at the same time… Tooru was very possibly the only person she had left. She had to find him.

“At least stay the night, okay? You’ll need gear if you’re set on going to Diamond City. A gun and provisions, at the very least. It won’t do Oikawa any good for you to go out there unprepared. The man’s lost enough, yeah?”

Naomi sighed. The guilt trip worked where probably no other argument would have. It really wouldn’t do Tooru any good if she got herself killed out there. She didn’t know for sure what was waiting for her out there, but she had the strangest feeling this new world she found herself in wasn’t the kindest one; not if a man with a smile as kind as Preston’s had such bone-deep wariness in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a strangely nice day, for this time of year.

Realistically, Asahi knew that he’d be in for a good bit more cold weather before spring arrived properly, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy this while it lasted. He sat on a wide rock, chewing a bit of bread while his dog Hime occupied herself with a stick he’d been throwing for her until just a minute ago, when she decided to abandon playing fetch in favor of just chewing on it until she broke it to bits.

They’d had a good run today. Scavenging runs weren’t Asahi’s favorite thing, but with his water purifier on the fritz, he’d needed new parts to fix it. Luckily, he’d been able to find everything he needed without running into any trouble.

He took a deep swig of water from his canteen. After days of rationing his supply, it was a good feeling to be able to truly quench his thirst without fear of running out. That said, he still needed to get back and actually fix the thing. Sighing, he pushed himself off the rock and whistled to Hime. She jumped up, barking once as she bounded towards him.

“Let’s go, girl,” he said, grabbing his shotgun and his pack and starting off down the hill. It wasn’t too much farther to get back to his little farm, but if he wanted to get the purifier fixed today he needed to get back before dark.

Asahi breathed deeply as he walked, looking around at the clear blue sky. This weather really was practically too good to be true. Usually there’d still be snow on the ground this time of year. Not that he was going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. His toes were very happy to be dry and unfrozen. He adjusted the pack slung across his shoulders, a small smile spreading across his face.

Hime’s ears suddenly perked up, and she let out a soft _whuff_ that had Asahi instantly on alert. He could see the way the fur on her back bristled, and his eyes carefully followed the direction she was looking.

Yao guai. _Damn._ It wasn’t too close, but trying to skirt around it would be risky. Not to mention it was closer to home than Asahi would like; he really did not want to lose another brahmin this year. Letting out a resigned sigh, Asahi started forward, silently beckoning for Hime to follow. He walked slowly, carefully planting his feet to avoid making noise. If he could sneak up behind it, he could hopefully get a shot in before the thing even noticed them.

Out of nowhere, though, Hime let out a high-pitched whine and shot off ahead of him. Asahi cursed, running after her. New plan: just go in guns blazing. It was definitely Asahi’s least favorite of all possible plans, but it was all he had at this point. The yao guai snarled, tendrils of rancid saliva hanging from its jowls. Hime growled back, flanking it and drawing its attention. Asahi took advantage, closing in on its front and firing. The beast yowled in anger, lunging for Asahi--but Hime latched on to its rear leg, slowing it down enough for him to fire again. It collapsed, and Asahi fired one more round straight to its head for good measure.

What the _fuck._ What had gotten into Hime? She was the smartest dog Asahi had ever met; she could be a bit of a shit sometimes, sure, but taking off like that in a dangerous situation? She _never_ did that.

“ _Hime!”_ he said, exasperated and overwhelmed, his heart still trying to beat out of his damn chest from the adrenaline. Hime just whined again, looking up at him imploringly. He let out a ragged sigh, rubbing a hand across his face.

“Come on, girl,” he said, letting out a deep, shaky breath. “Let’s get home.”

He took off walking again, but it didn’t take him long to realize that Hime wasn’t following.

He looked back; Hime was lying down in a bush not far from the dead yao guai. When he whistled for her to come, she only whined again.

“Hime!” he called. Another whine. She put her nose down, pawing at something in the bush. Sighing, Asahi trudged off to see what her problem was.

When he was a few feet away, he suddenly registered the shape in the bushes in front of Hime, and cursed loudly. He darted forward, fingers immediately seeking a pulse in the woman’s neck. It was there--faint, but there. He brushed her hair out of her face. It was matted to her forehead on one side, sticky with blood. There was--fuck, there was a lot of blood. Her arms were gouged, probably from trying to defend herself from the yao guai. There was another nasty wound at her side, slowly staining the fabric of a bright blue vault suit. Damn. What a welcome to the outside world.

Asahi looked around, trying to see if there was anything he could use to rig a stretcher to carry her so he wouldn’t jostle her. He had no way of knowing if anything was broken. There was no _time,_ though. She would bleed out before he could manage. There was nothing for it. He gently slipped his arms under her, lifting her as carefully as he could. Hime immediately followed, glancing up anxiously at the figure in his arms.

“It’s okay, Hime. You did good.”

Hime let out a low whine, and Asahi picked up his pace. He needed to get home as quickly as he could; if he didn’t get this girl bandaged and hooked up to a bag of rad-away soon… Well, he wasn’t going to think about that. He would just walk faster.

He laid her on the table as soon as he got back, immediately rushing to the cabinet for rad-away and whatever bandages he had. It wasn’t enough, he realized quickly, and pulled one of his rattier shirts out of another drawer. He made quick work of tearing it into strips. The rad-away, he figured, could wait until she wasn’t at risk of bleeding out. Shit, he needed to clean the wounds, too. Probably stitches, at least for that one on her side. He grabbed a bottle of moonshine--nasty stuff, better for disinfecting than drinking, though he used it for both. He started to pull the ripped fabric aside to get to her wounds, but soon realized he really should remove it altogether. There was no way of knowing what other injuries she might have underneath the vault suit. He unzipped the suit down to her navel, and then murmured a soft apology as he grabbed his knife and began cutting it the rest of the way off. He apologized again as he began pouring the moonshine over her wounds. He wasn’t sure if she was remotely aware of what was going on, but the stuff stung like anything. He would know. He poured some onto a cloth next, dabbing at each gash and scrape to get as much of the dirt and debris out as he could. He sorely wished he had any actual training as a medic; his haphazard approach to first aid was one thing when it came to patching himself up, but this girl needed someone who knew what they were doing. There was no _time,_ though. He was nowhere near any major settlements that might have a real doctor.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to put his worry aside for later. He just had to do the best he could for her. He grabbed his pile of bandages, quickly wrapping the gashes on her arms and tying them off with enough pressure to hopefully stem the bleeding. Okay, stitches next. He opened another drawer, pulling out needle and thread. He let out a shaky breath, praying he could keep his hands steady.

He went into an almost trance-like state as he slowly stitched her up and then hooked her up to the rad-away. He turned his attention to the smaller scrapes next, cleaning each of them. He left those unbandaged, saving his supply for changing the bandages on her deeper wounds. His head stayed remarkably clear the whole time, focusing single-mindedly on the task at hand.

Eventually, though, he’d done all he could for her. He sat back, heaving a deep breath as he scrubbed a hand across his face. He realized a second too late that it was probably still covered in her blood. His chest hitched with something that might have been a laugh or a sob. He made himself get up from the chair, going outside and running his hands under the spigot. He splashed some water on his face, and then turned it off.

His hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. They’d remained steady enough while he was working, but it was like all the nerves were catching up to him now.

That woman would have died if Hime hadn’t found her. That much was certain. She’s been bleeding out, irradiated, probably dehydrated too. Hell, she could still die. It was pretty likely, if he was honest with himself. She wasn’t going to bleed out anymore, but there was still the radiation, the risk of infection, any number of ways she could die. The Commonwealth wasn’t a kind place.

He slapped a hand over his mouth as a sob worked its way up his throat. He ran back into the house, suddenly needing to _see_ her, to make sure she was still breathing.

She hadn’t moved an inch, of course, but her chest still rose and fell infinitesimally with each weak breath. A soft whine caught his attention, and Asahi looked down to see Hime sitting at one end of the table, looking anxiously between him and the vault dweller. Asahi reached down to scratch behind her ears, weaving his fingers into her fur. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to reassure, her or himself.

Sighing, he collapsed into the chair again, grabbing the still open bottle of moonshine and taking a long swig. He immediately pulled a face at the taste, and put the cork back in. He leaned forward, taking the woman’s hand in both of his.

 _Please don’t die,_ he found himself begging silently. Hime whined as if in agreement. Or maybe he was just reading into the sounds she made, but it sure seemed like she agreed with him.

Asahi reached up and gently brushed the wild curls out of the vault dweller’s face. He wished he knew her name. All he knew about her came in the form of the blue vault suit, the number 111 printed across the back in gaudy yellow block letters. What had her life been like in the vault, he wondered? Why was she out here alone? It wasn’t _fair._ She probably just wanted to see the sun for once in her life, and this is what she got.

Asahi wondered what she was like. Was she as wild as the curls of her hair? Did she like her freckles, or was she embarrassed by them? How old was she? She looked so young to him, but growing up in a vault, she could easily be as old as he was. He wondered why she’d left. What was she looking for out here?

“Please live,” he said softly, his hands tightening around hers. “I know you don’t even know me but just… please don’t die on me. I can’t…”

_I can’t lose anyone else._

It was a stupid thing to think. She was a complete stranger to him, but at this moment it felt like losing her would be the final straw for him. He had no reason to be so attached. If he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t be. He didn’t know her. Didn’t even know her _name._ So why did it feel like losing her would be the thing that finally broke him? He shouldn’t do this to himself. He should accept the fact that she could die.

Instead, he just held on tighter.

“Stay with me. Just stay with me, please…”


	3. Chapter 3

Her awareness came in flashes.

Pain. Feverish heat that gave way to chills that wracked her entire body. A soft voice. A cool cloth against her forehead.

At least once, she woke only long enough to turn over and violently empty the meager contents of her stomach before sleep took her again.

She dreamed she was in the park near Sanctuary Hills on a sunny day. The few clouds in the sky were fluffy and white, only adding to the idyllic scene. There was a checked blanket spread out before her with a delicious-looking picnic spread. By her side there was a warm presence, a hand clasped tightly in her own.

The image faded as consciousness slowly returned to her, nothing left but a strange sense of yearning.

Even that was forgotten quickly as nausea hit her like a sack of bricks, and she barely managed to lean over the side of the rough bed she was in before she was puking what seemed like pure bile.

“Whoa, hey!”

There was that soft voice again, and a moment later there were hands in her hair, gently pulling it back from her face. When her stomach had finally stopped heaving, she sat back gingerly. The man sitting on the bed next to her scooted away slightly, as if trying to leave a respectable amount of space. He was looking at her with a gentle, hopeful expression that seemed at odds with his rough, unkempt appearance.

“You’re awake!” he said in a thick voice.

Naomi glanced around. They were in a small cabin. Rustic was the first word that came to mind, though even that might have been an understatement. There was a table with one chair, what seemed like a makeshift kitchen in one corner with a plain wooden counter and a sink, and then the bed that she was currently occupying.

“Um, hi?” she offered feebly. She couldn’t decide what question to lead with. “Where… uh, where am I? And do I know you?”

“Oh! No, uh. Sorry. I’m Asahi. This is my, uh… my house, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s not much, I know.”

“Well, Asahi, what I’m gathering from this situation and the fact that my _everything_ hurts like a bitch is that you probably saved my hide, so I’m hardly gonna be picky,” Naomi said, giving him a smile that turned into a grimace as the motion tugged at a wound on her head she hadn’t noticed.

“Um. Yeah, I guess. I--or, well, my dog, really--found you. There was a yao guai, you… you were in bad shape,” Asahi said. From the way his face clouded over, she wondered just how bad off she’d been.

She did remember running into something… big. It had looked almost like a bear, she’d thought, but worse. Huge and ugly with a smell like rotting flesh. “Yao guai,” she echoed. “Is that like… like a bear?”

“A bear?” Asahi said, blinking quickly in a way that really shouldn’t have been quite so adorable on a man his size.

“Nevermind,” Naomi said quickly. Maybe bears weren’t called bears anymore. What was she to know, it had been over two hundred years. That thought, of course, made her nauseous all over again, so she shoved it aside. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Sorry! I’m Naomi. I should have introduced myself sooner, since you have been taking care of me and all for… how long was I out, exactly?”

“A couple of days. You had a pretty nasty fever, and combined with the effects of the rad-away, you were pretty out of it.”

“I feel like I drank an entire liquor store and then the vodka demons chewed me up and spat me back out,” she said, wincing as she tried to move and was met with more pain.

“I’m just glad you’re finally awake. I was worried,” Asahi said, looking at her nervously as though unsure how she would take his concern.

“Sorry,” Naomi said sheepishly. “I should have been more prepared before I--”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. The Commonwealth is rough, even if you grow up out here.”

Naomi started to give him a questioning look, before she remembered. “Ah, right. That damn jumpsuit.”

“Sorry about that, by the way. It was already pretty torn up, but I had to cut it off to--”

“Don’t worry about it, please! Good riddance.”

“Oh,” Asahi said. “Okay. I, um. Are you hungry? I made food. Probably not what you’re used to in the vault, but…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Naomi said, wanting to avoid any more talk of that fucking place. “I can’t say how much I’ll be able to keep down, but I feel like I should probably try.”

Asahi went outside and came back with a bowl full of soup. At a glance, it looked like chicken noodle. Naomi knew that was probably wishful thinking. 

“It’s just carrots and cabbage, mostly, but I figured simple was good anyway if you still don’t feel great,” he said, passing it to her along with a spoon. Naomi sat up gingerly before accepting it. She raised the bowl to her lips, figuring a sip of broth would be a good way to test her stomach. She swallowed with some difficulty, but her stomach didn’t immediately protest. The simple flavor was about all she could handle, she figured.

“This is great, thanks,” she said with a smile.

“Good,” Asahi said, leaving again and returning with a bowl for himself. The bowls didn’t match. Nothing in this world came in matching sets anymore, she found herself thinking. The thought, for whatever reason, made her smile. A moment after Asahi reappeared, the largest dog she had ever seen bounded in after him, wagging its tail and staring up at Asahi’s bowl.

“Gah. I gave you your own food, Hime!”

Naomi snorted into her soup. “ _Hime?_ You saw _that dog,”_ she said, looking pointedly at the enormous creature at his feet, “and decided to name it ‘Princess’?”

“Um… yes?” Asahi raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck nervously, glancing away.

Naomi giggled, forcing herself to refrain from voicing how adorable she thought it was. “Alright then. It’s very nice to meet you, Hime.”

Hime, as if suddenly remembering Naomi’s presence, darted to the side of the bed, sitting down and pawing at the mattress, resting her head against it.

“She likes you,” Asahi said, looking thoroughly perplexed. “Barely left your side while you were unconscious.”

“I take it that’s not like her?”

“She usually doesn’t take well to strangers. At all.”

Naomi looked down at the _absurdly_ enormous dog, and reached out to scratch behind her ears. “Aww, she’s a sweetheart. Aren’t you, Hime?” Hime leaned into Naomi’s hand with a distinctively contented sounding _whuff._

“So weird,” Asahi muttered.

Before Naomi had finished even half of her bowl of soup, her stomach began to feel uneasy again, and swallowing became more difficult. Her eyes were beginning to droop, too, the mere act of sitting up and eating apparently enough to exhaust her.

“You should rest,” Asahi said, concern apparent in his tone.

“Am I that transparent?” she asked with a weak laugh, letting him take the bowl away from her and help her into a more comfortable position.

“Only swaying a little bit,” he said.

Naomi smiled. “Thanks, Asahi,” she said as she closed her eyes.

It was only as she was drifting off that she registered that if Asahi had been forced to cut the vault suit off her--the only clothing she’d had--the loose flannel she was dressed in now must be his.

\---

Asahi slept soundly that night for the first time in the few days since he’d found Naomi. The floor wasn’t any less hard, but without the constant stress of wondering if she would die in the night, he was out like a light almost as soon as he was horizontal.

The next day, it was obvious Naomi was feeling even better. She was able to keep down a decent breakfast, and declared not too long afterward that she wanted to get out of bed. She was still very shaky and moving slowly, but Asahi helped her outside and into a chair. She sat and watched and chatted while he worked; it would be time to plant soon, so he was busy preparing for that.

Well. He _had_ been busy with that, until Naomi. Now he was mostly busy pointedly avoiding looking at her legs. He’d tried to help her into a pair of his pants, but even if she managed to cinch them in enough with a belt, she’d have had to roll them up about fifty times in order to not trip on them. She shrugged and declared that the flannel was fine, saying it was basically long enough to be a dress anyway.

The flannel was _not_ long enough to be a dress. The view was utterly enticing. Her skin was fair and dotted with freckles. Her thighs were gorgeous and muscular but still soft-looking and supple, and _god_ she was going to drive Asahi crazy like that. He moved “go to Bunker Hill to trade for clothes for Naomi” up to the top of his to-do list.

\---

Asahi expected it to be weird, having another person around. He’d been on his own for more than a decade now, only interacting with other people in sporadic bursts when he had to go into town to trade. By all logic, it should be a big adjustment, suddenly not being alone.

Only… it wasn’t. Within a couple weeks it felt like Naomi had been a part of his life for ages. She slipped into his routine effortlessly, graduating from sitting in her chair and talking while he worked to helping him out. Planting the tatoes seemed almost effortless with a second pair of hands, compared to the workload Asahi was used to.

When they were done with the planting, Asahi cracked open a Nuka-Cola he’d bought on a whim on his last trip into town, and they split it, sitting on the ground and watching the sunset.

“Hey, Asahi?”

“Hm?”

“You’ll let me know if you want me to get going, yeah?” Naomi said, glancing at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m probably in your way and all. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“No, no, not at all,” Asahi said quickly, waving his hands. “It’s been nice, having you around. Besides, I don’t know what Hime would do if you left.”

Naomi chuckled. “Okay. Just… let me know if you change your mind, okay? I don’t want to become a burden. Or more of one than I’ve already been, I guess. I know I’m not exactly suited to life out here.”

“You’re not a burden, Naomi. If you think I would just leave you there to die… well, you’re wrong. And you’ll adapt. You already are, if you ask me. You’ve been a big help around here.”

“Oh come on, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Naomi said, waving him off.

Asahi shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. It really has made a difference having a second pair of hands.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Asahi said firmly, taking a sip of his drink. “Naomi… can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Naomi said, but Asahi couldn’t help but notice the firm set of her jaw, the way her voice pitched up slightly.

“Why did you leave the vault?”

Naomi went very still, and Asahi immediately regretted the question. It was stupid of him to press her for information; if she wanted to talk about it, she would have. Asahi knew without asking that it wasn’t a simple run for food or supplies. There was a darkness in Naomi’s eyes when the subject of the vault was brought up, and Asahi had been selfishly curious what had happened.

“I’d… rather not talk about it. Let’s just say there was nothing left for me there.” Naomi’s voice was strangely flat and uncharacteristically quiet. Asahi wanted to hit himself.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay,” Naomi said, a little of her usual energy back in her tone. “I can see why you’d be curious, you probably don’t see too many… vault dwellers. I’m just… not ready to think about it. The past couple weeks have been so nice, I just…”

“Really, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s… hm. Another time, maybe?”

“If you want,” Asahi said gently. “But hey,” he added, raising his cup, “here’s to a good day’s work. We make a good team.”

“That we do,” Naomi said, tapping her cup against his. Asahi ducked his head so she wouldn’t see the blush spreading across his cheeks.

They finished the Nuka-Cola in comfortable silence, watching the sky until well after the sun had set, cloaking the world in darkness. Naomi leaned against his side, shivering slightly against the chill in the air. He knew they should probably go inside, but her warm presence at his side was so _nice,_ he didn’t want to move. Eventually, though, a jaw-cracking yawn escaped him and Naomi giggled, looking up at him.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said. “Maybe we should turn in.”

Asahi sighed. “You’re probably right.”

Naomi got up first and offered him a hand, which he accepted. He tried not to think too much about the warmth of her hand in his, the softness of her skin compared to his rough callouses. They headed inside together, and Asahi set about fixing the makeshift bed he’d been sleeping in. It took him a while to realize that Naomi had paused in the middle of the room, and was staring fixedly at the bed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You should take your bed back,” Naomi said firmly.

“What? No, I’m not making you sleep on the floor. You’re still healing.”

“Oh, come on. Excuse my French, but that’s bullshit. If I’m well enough to help you with the planting all day, I’m well enough to take the floor.”

“Really, I’m fine on the floor. I’ve handled much worse.”

“Asahi, it’s _your bed._ Get in it.”

“No, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

“But it’s okay for me to make you sleep on the floor? It’s your house, Asahi.”

“I’m tired. _Please_ can you just get in the bed?”

“Fine,” Naomi said, and Asahi was about to breathe a sigh of relief when: “I’ll get in the bed if you do.”

“What?”

“Don’t give me that look. I’m not that big, we’ll both fit just fine.”

“But I--I can’t just--”

“If you don’t want to share the bed with me that’s okay,” Naomi said, her voice gentle. “But otherwise I’m taking the floor.”

“I… Yeah, okay,” Asahi said, hoping it was dark enough that Naomi couldn’t see how flushed he was.

“Great,” Naomi said. “Get over here, then.” She climbed onto the bed, moving over to make room for him.

Asahi grabbed his pillow from the floor and tossed it onto the bed. He laid down gently, careful to leave space between himself and Naomi. He stayed on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He normally slept on his side, but if he turned towards Naomi he’d be looking right at her and this was overwhelming enough already, and he didn’t want to turn away from her in case she took offense--

“Asahi, I can hear you thinking from here,” Naomi said, a hint of laughter in her tone.

“Sorry! I just--”

“Is this making you uncomfortable? Because we really don’t have to share. Sorry if I was being pushy.”

“No, not at all. This makes sense.”

They fell into silence for a moment.

“Asahi,” Naomi said.

“Hm?”

“I know for a fact you don’t sleep on your back like a plank.”

“Oh, um. Right.”

When Asahi made no immediate move to get into a more comfortable position, Naomi reached over and grabbed his arm.

“C’mere,” she said, pulling his arm over her waist so his chest was pressed against her back. She laid her hand over his, weaving their fingers together and giving a light squeeze. “Is this okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Asahi said, his voice breathy. “Yeah, this is… this is nice.” He managed to keep his voice even, and hoped Naomi couldn’t hear the rapid thud of his heartbeat. He hadn’t touched a woman--hadn’t touched _anyone--_ like this in… god, it had been _years._ His face rested in her hair and he was inundated with her smell.

“Night, Asahi,” she said softly.

“Good night,” he whispered.

As Naomi’s breathing fell into the steady rhythm of sleep, Asahi could feel his body relaxing. As foreign as it was to hold another person in his arms, with Naomi it felt natural. He supposed it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she would fit in his arms as easily as she’d fit into his life. He fell asleep quickly, lulled by the soft sound of Naomi’s steady breathing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naomi realizes she's becoming complacent, and decides to come clean with Asahi about Vault 111.

In a strange way, this new post-apocalyptic world Naomi had found herself in was _peaceful._ It was an odd thought to have, when her introduction to it had been being mauled by a mutated, monstrous bear. So maybe it wasn’t _all_ peaceful. But this? This quiet life she had let herself fall into with Asahi? This was peaceful. It wasn’t _easy—_ she couldn’t deny that farming for subsistence was hard work—but there was a simplicity to it. Working quietly side by side with Asahi, Hime trotting along after them… it was becoming worryingly easy to see a future for herself here. A future for herself with Asahi.

She glanced over at him, smiling at the look of concentration on his face as he worked. Despite the scruffy exterior, Asahi was so gentle. He was _kind,_ in a world that was anything but. She cared for him more than she had ever anticipated. It would be entirely too easy to fall in love with him.

The longer she stayed, the harder the thought of leaving became. But maybe… maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. She didn’t know what had become of Tooru. She knew he had left the vault alive, but after that… The trail, at this point, was dead. Which is exactly what _she_ would probably end up being if she tried to go after him on her own again. Her dying in a fruitless attempt to find him would not do Tooru any good. Maybe it was better to just stay. If they were meant to meet again, maybe he would find her. She could only hope. 

\---

“Some of the tatoes are looking ripe,” Asahi said as he shucked his muddy boots at the door. “We should take some in to trade soon. I’ve heard they have a good trading post going at the Slog.”

“The Slog?”

“Yeah, don’t ask me where they got the name from. It’s an all ghoul settlement about a day’s walk from here.”

“Ghouls,” Naomi echoed, trying not to sound as apprehensive as she felt. She hadn’t met any ghouls, since most of her time since she’d left the vault had been spent around Asahi’s farmstead. From what he’d explained, though, they were basically radiation zombies. Some were still human in all but appearance, some… not so much. The idea was so foreign, so impossible seeming, but she knew Asahi had no reason to lie about something like that. 

“They’re good people, don’t worry. I’ve met them myself.”

“I know. It’s just… brave new world and all.”

“Yeah. I… I forget, sometimes. That you didn’t grow up out here,” Asahi said.

Naomi bit her tongue, fighting the urge to say that she did grow up out here, just ‘out here’ was a different place back then. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him _everything,_ but she didn’t know if she was ready for that. She felt like admitting the truth would pop the little bubble of peace that surrounded them, and she didn’t think she could take that. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I know you don’t like to talk about it.”

“No, no,” she said quickly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Anyway, I was thinking… maybe you’d like to go with me this time? It’ll probably be another week or so before we have a decent enough number to take, but that will give us time for some shooting lessons. I’ve been thinking I’d sleep better at night anyway if I knew you could defend yourself.” 

“Okay,” Naomi said, despite the apprehension she felt at the thought of leaving behind the illusion of safety that Asahi’s little farmstead gave. 

“Great,” Asahi said, a warm smile lighting up his face. “It’s probably getting a little dark for shooting now, but tomorrow maybe?”

“Sounds good,” Naomi said.”

\---

Not ten minutes into her first shooting lesson, Naomi realized that she really, _really_ hadn’t thought this one through. Shooting lessons meant learning how to hold a gun properly.

Which meant learning the proper stance with which to hold a gun.

Which meant _Asahi teaching her said stance,_ standing behind her and offering corrections with gentle touches of his rough, broad hands. She felt like every cliche in the book, as hyper-aware as she was of his every touch, his very _presence_ behind her. 

“Relax your shoulders,” he said, emphasizing his words with a soft brush of his fingers. God, was he doing this on purpose?

“ _Easier said than done,”_ Naomi muttered under her breath—but not quietly enough, judging by Asahi’s soft chuckle. 

“Sorry. I’ll give you some space. Alright, keep your elbow down. Butt of the rifle against your shoulder. Line up the sights, and when you’re ready, fire. Watch out for the recoil, though.” 

Naomi took a deep breath, lining up the sights with the tin can Asahi had set up. Her hands shook slightly, and she was suddenly keenly aware of her heart pounding in her chest. Apart from the pistol Preston had given her—which seemed to be assembled from random bits of pipe and spare hardware, and seemed about as likely to fall apart as it was to actually hit its target—she’d never so much as held a gun before. Asahi’s rifle was a solid wooden affair, its heft in her hands entirely different. Foreign. 

Gritting her teeth, she sucked in a breath, and then pulled the trigger. 

The rifle slammed into her shoulder, nearly throwing her off balance. When she’d recovered enough she immediately glanced towards the can—which was still sitting on the log, completely untouched.

“Not bad,” Asahi said, gesturing towards a new hole in a tree beyond her target. She’d been off, but not by a huge margin. “Try to keep your body relaxed as you fire, though. Also, it helps if you fire right after an exhale. You’ll be steadier.”

\---

By the end of the lesson, Naomi’s arms were shaking with exertion, but she had a tin can with a bullet hole clean through it as proof of her efforts. 

“Well done,” Asahi said. 

“I made _one_ clean shot,” she said, holding up the single ruined can.

“It’s still impressive. You said you’d never fired a rifle before?”

“No,” she said. “Never used any kind of gun.”

“I guess things were pretty peaceful in the Vault.”

“Y-yeah,” Naomi said, ducking Asahi’s gaze. 

“Anyway, the sun’s getting pretty low, and you look beat anyway. Let’s call it a night.”

“Sounds good to me,” Naomi said, sighing with relief. “That thing packs a punch.”

Asahi accepted the rifle from her as she rubbed her shoulder, trying to ease the soreness. “Yeah, it takes a little getting used to,” he said. “Come on, I’ve got some salve we can put on it. Hopefully it’ll keep you from getting too sore.”

Naomi nodded, following Asahi inside. He rifled through a drawer, eventually producing a small jar. Naomi unbuttoned her shirt, holding a hand out for the jar. Asahi, though, had already unscrewed the lid and dipped his own fingers in it. 

“Oh, um—may I?” he asked belatedly, eyebrows drawing together sheepishly. 

“Um. Yeah,” she said, sliding her shirt off her shoulder. Asahi reached out slowly and touched his salve-covered fingers to her bared shoulder. She shivered at the cold sensation; a moment later the scent hit her nostrils and she smiled. “Mint?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Asahi said with a far-away smile. “My mom taught me the recipe. Da—” he cut himself off, a hint of a frown flashing over his features. “My friend and I used to get into all kinds of trouble. Bruises, sore muscles, you name it. We went through so much of this stuff eventually my mom taught me how to make it myself.”

Naomi smiled. Asahi’s fingers, though rough, were exceedingly gentle, rubbing the salve into her shoulder in small circular motions. Even after the salve was spread evenly over his skin, his hand lingered. His thumb slowly traced the line of her collarbone; she looked up at him to see that his eyes wide and unblinking, staring at where his tanned, work-hardened fingers passed over her creamy skin. She let out a shaky breath, and his eyes flitted unmistakably up to her lips. 

“Asahi?” she whispered. He still jumped slightly, as if broken from a trance.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, her breath catching in her chest.

“ _Please,”_ he breathed, and she leaned forward, rising onto her toes to bring her lips to his. His lips were chapped but warm from the sun, and they parted just slightly as they met her own. He let out a soft breath that she could feel against her cheeks, and his hand slid up to her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her closer, pressing their lips together more insistently. She let herself melt against him, resting one hand on his hip while the other crept up, giving a tug on the tie holding his hair back from his face. He chuckled as his long tresses fell loose, Naomi instantly burying her hand in them. Her fingers scraped lightly along his scalp and he let out a pleased hum against her lips.

She looked up at him to see a soft smile spread across his face. She gave him a smile in return before ducking her head forward, tucking it against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. He let out a soft chuckle, his fingers weaving in her hair as he rested his cheek on top of her head. It felt like something broken inside her clicking back into place as he held her. She took a deep breath, lungs filling with the earthy smell of him, intermingling with the sharp mint of the salve. 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“The salve,” she said. “The kiss. Everything.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” Asahi said. “I… I can’t even tell you what it’s meant to me, having you here.”

“You’re the one who saved my life.”

“Still,” Asahi insisted. “A while ago, you told me to tell you if you were overstaying your welcome. I’ve been thinking about it more and more and… I don’t think it’s ever going to happen. I want you to stay, Naomi. I don’t know where you were headed before I found you, and I don’t know if you planned on going back to the vault—hell, I hardly know anything about you—but I want you to know you have a home here. If you want it.”

Naomi squeezed her eyes shut to stave off the tears that threatened to spill from them. She buried her face against his chest, her arms tightening around his waist. She wanted so terribly to just say yes, to stay and forget about Vault 111 and everything that happened there. It would be so easy. As different as it was from the world she’d known before, she could picture a life for herself here. A life with Asahi. In that moment, she wanted it more than anything. 

“Asahi,” she said, her voice coming out remarkably even, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Anything, Naomi,” he said, his fingers brushing the stray curls out of her face when she leaned back to look up at him. 

“Can we… can we sit down?”

“Of course,” Asahi said, leading her over to the bed, which was more comfortable than the wooden chairs. There were two chairs now; he’d made a second one so they could both sit together—another thing he’d done for her that she wouldn’t be able to repay. Asahi settled on the bed, leaning against the wall, pulling her down so she could lean against him, legs across his lap. 

She took a deep breath, not even sure where to begin. The Vault, the bombs, her life before the war. She’d tried so hard not to think about it, but there was no avoiding it forever. 

“You asked me, that day, why I left the vault,” she began, voice steady. 

“If it’s something you don’t want to talk about—”

“No,” she said, stopping him. “I need to.” She took a deep breath before she continued; “I guess I should just drop the bombshell. Ha, poor choice of words maybe. Okay, um. The truth is, everyone in Vault 111 is dead. When I said there was nothing left for me there, I meant it literally. Vault 111 is a tomb.”

Asahi was silent, apparently processing her words. “I’m so sorry,” he said finally. “What… what happened?”

Naomi’s tongue caught in her throat as she tried to form the words. “We were frozen. They told us it was just a decontamination before we went further into the vault, but then… nothing.”

“Frozen? Why would they—how long were you in there?”

“That’s where you’re gonna think I’m crazy. I was… I was frozen for over two hundred years. I entered the Vault the day the bombs fell.”

“Holy shit,” Asahi said softly.

“You believe me?”

“Could you even make something like that up?”

“No, I guess not,” Naomi said with a humorless laugh.

“You don’t have to talk about it any more if you don’t want to, but… what about everyone else? How did they die?”

“Asphyxiation due to life support failure,” Naomi recited, having read the words enough times to remember them forever. “Every single one of them. All except me.”

“Did no one else make it?”

“Only one. My friend Tooru. That’s why I was out there so unprepared, when you found me. I was trying to find him.”

Asahi sat in silence, his hand a warm weight on her thigh. His eyes were out of focus, staring unseeing across the room. 

“So,” he began finally, and then paused. “Why are you telling me this now?” He phrased it as a question, but by his tone she could tell he already knew.

“I want to stay with you, Asahi,” she said. “I want it more than anything. But… I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t find Tooru. I don’t even know if he’s still alive but… I have to know. I have to go after him.”

“I know,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, burying her face against his chest. “I wish I could stay with you.”

Asahi took a slow breath, his fingers carding gently through her hair. 

“I’m coming with you,” he said with absolute surety. His voice was even and firm, brooking no arguments. Even so—

“I can’t ask that of you, Asahi.” She leaned back to look up at him, but his face was set in a determined frown. 

“You didn’t ask it of me. I’m still coming with you. _Please,”_ he added, voice softening. “Please, Naomi, let me come with you.”

“Asahi… you have a life here. You have the farm, and Hime. I don’t even know where to begin looking for Tooru, I have no idea how long it’ll take…”

“What I had here wasn’t a life,” Asahi said plainly. “Not until you came along, anyway.”

“Asahi…”

“You’ve become so important to me, Naomi. I don’t want to watch you walk away. I don’t think I can stand it.”

“Of course,” Naomi said, unable to keep her relief from coloring her voice. “God, Asahi, of course I want you to come.” 

Asahi didn’t reply verbally, just gathered Naomi to his chest and held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. She relaxed against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. His fingers brushed steadily through her hair, occasionally catching on tangles in her wild curls. She felt raw and open from finally spilling herself to him, but he was still there, warm and solid and almost unbearably gentle. Something had changed between them with all the day’s confessions, thrumming subtly in the silence.

“Naomi?” Asahi started.

“Hm?” She lifted her head to look up at him, watching a maelstrom of emotion swirl through his warm brown eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but then shut it with a frown, looking away from her. She softly brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, and his eyes snapped to hers again. Forgoing words completely, he curled a hand around the base of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. 

It was chaste on the surface, but there was something deeper behind it, a needy undercurrent that quickly pulled her in. It wasn’t long before he was deepening the kiss, licking greedily into her mouth as he gently laid her back on the bed, lowering himself over her. 

“Is this okay?” he said, a small furrow in his brow as his fingers gently traced the curve of her cheek. 

“Yes,” she said, so quickly she might have been embarrassed under other circumstances. Not with him, though. “Please, Asahi.”

He smiled softly, settling his weight carefully over her as he reclaimed her lips. 


End file.
